Translator: AnubisTL
The iron dragon knew that while Garos disliked managing affairs, his wisdom far surpassed his own.
To acknowledge one's own shortcomings and seek advice from those stronger—this was a rare and precious quality among dragonkind.
"Remain on standby at all times."
As the sun gradually sank westward, the iron dragon left with these words, flapping his wings and soaring into the heavens. Soon after, he returned to Dragon Valley and reported the earlier events to the red-iron dragon.
"So that's what happened," the red-iron dragon said, pausing his training and nodding slightly, as expected. "Just as I suspected. The Gold Tooth Tribe's ability to dissuade other merchant guilds from trading with us stems from price manipulation, not coercion."
The iron dragon pondered for a moment before saying, "Deep down, I refuse to admit defeat. I'd rather retaliate against the Gold Tooth Tribe with a trade war, but their accumulated wealth far exceeds ours."
"I've scoured our inheritance records, but I haven't found any suitable trade war tactics for this situation."
He turned to the red-iron dragon. "Garos, do you have any good ideas?"
Under Solgorn's expectant gaze, the red-iron dragon slowly said, "Of course. A trade war with the goblins should be easy."
Solgorn perked up. "How should we proceed?"
Garos stretched his wings, dragon scales clashing and sending sparks flying.
In a calm tone, he said, "Attack. Destroy the Gold Tooth Tribe's riverside strongholds to cut off their trade routes. That will solve the immediate problem. Of course, new issues will arise afterward, but at least we won't have to worry about trade anymore."
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A question mark appeared above the iron dragon's head.
"You call that a trade war?" he couldn't help but ask.
The red-iron dragon nodded, retorting, "Isn't it?"
He gazed at the iron dragon and said, "Solgorn, my dear brother, you rely too much on the knowledge from our inheritance. While it's useful, sometimes it overwhelms you, preventing you from making the right choices."
He paused briefly, then grinned. "The most effective and straightforward trade war is to kill them all."
Garos's words weren't driven by the red dragon bloodline dominating his thinking, but rather by careful consideration.
If they followed the Gold Tooth Tribe's rhythm and engaged in a price war, they would become the weaker party being bullied by the stronger.
A direct assault, resorting to violence, was the best way to break the stalemate. At the very least, it would drag the Gold Tooth Tribe out of their area of expertise and into the Ironforged Tribe's domain.
"Are we going to war with the Gold Tooth Tribe?" the iron dragon asked.
"Now doesn't seem like the right time," he added.
Garos shook his head slightly. "Look at you, so impatient. This is just a trade war. It won't escalate into a full-scale conflict."
The iron dragon stared blankly.
"Didn't you just say we should kill them all?"
"It was just a figure of speech," the red-iron dragon replied. "Striking their trading posts along the riverbank will be enough. The Gold Tooth Tribe has conflicts with other tribes that will restrain them. They won't risk everything to fight us. Goblins always lack resolve."
Upon hearing this, the iron dragon's eyes narrowed, his keen senses picking up a questionable element in Garos's words. "Garos, you seem to have a strong bias against goblins. That's not a rational way of thinking."
Adopting Garos's teasing tone, he said, "My dear brother, don't let prejudice and arrogance control you. They will only harm you."
Hearing this, Garos realized the inappropriateness of his earlier words.
Goblins always lacked resolve in their actions.
The stereotypes from our inheritance have influenced me.
"Hmm, you're right. I was careless."
The red-iron dragon didn't bristle at his brother's teasing. Instead, he said cheerfully, "In the future, if anything like this happens again, remind me immediately."
The inherent arrogance of dragonkind could subtly influence even the most cautious among them.
Garos was already very vigilant, but he occasionally fell prey to these unconscious biases. At such times, a simple reminder was all it took for him to correct course.
"There's no time to lose," the red-iron dragon declared. "The darkness is our best camouflage. Let's launch our 'trade war' against the Gold Tooth Tribe as night falls."
It was already dusk, the sky fading into a dim gray-blue.
After hearing Garos's suggestion, the iron dragon nodded. "For this initial strike, we should completely destroy the Gold Tooth Tribe's Crescent Bay stronghold on the eastern riverbank. We need to act swiftly and decisively, giving them no chance to call for reinforcements. I'll deploy a detachment of death angels."
Garos nodded. "Agreed."
The so-called death angels were actually a new battle group composed primarily of elite aerial units. The core of the group consisted of bipedal flying dragons, commanded by their leader, Tasha.
Garos remained in Dragon Valley, focusing on his own training.
With the Ironforged Tribe's current strength, he didn't need to personally handle every matter. Dealing with the Gold Tooth Tribe's riverbank outposts wasn't a full-scale war; it was a task best left to his familiars.
As the iron dragon soared through the sky, it first contacted the centaur boss using a message stone.
His sorcerer level was still relatively low, limiting the range of his mental connection. Sometimes, the message stone proved more reliable. This crystal artifact, a product of the alchemy industry, could replace many magical spells.
"Zachary, lead your elite forces to raid Crescent Bay."
"The death angels have already been dispatched and will coordinate with your attack."
The iron dragon's orders crackled through the message stone.
Silvermane, who had been waiting for this moment, raised his arm and roared, "Warriors of the Crimson Iron Cavalry, follow me to war! Crush those filthy, treacherous goblins of the Gold Tooth Tribe!"
Hooves shod with iron struck the hard-packed earth of the Frontierlands.
The centaurs galloped at breakneck speed toward their destination.
Some time later.
On the eastern bank of the Estonian Great River, a crescent-shaped bend formed a natural harbor.
The Iron Shield Merchant Guild's ships lay anchored here, their gangplanks creaking softly against the docks.
The surrounding bay teemed with countless green figures, their silhouettes bustling in the twilight.
These humanoid creatures had long, pointed ears and arms that dangled past their knees. Beneath their flat noses, cunning smiles frequently flashed. Their green skin glistened with river dampness, and their small, beady eyes darted about, their eyelids blinking rapidly, betraying an innate slyness.
These were the goblins of the Gold Tooth Tribe.
Crescent Bay was one of the Gold Tooth Tribe's key trading outposts along the Estonian Great River.
Now, night had fallen like an iron curtain. The last sliver of twilight was sliced through by the searchlights of the goblin watchtowers, and the damp evening air in the Frontierlands grew particularly cold.
The price negotiations had concluded.
Hammer, the guild's chief negotiator, tightened his collar and rubbed his hands together, his mood buoyant as he instructed the sailors to unload sealed barrels of spices and crates of ore.
The Gold Tooth Tribe had altered their prices to punish the Ironforged Tribe, allowing the Iron Shield Merchant Guild to purchase ore at significantly lower rates. This meant they could return to the federation with fully laden ships, sell the ore at inflated prices, and amass immense wealth.
He produced a gold coin, but this time there was no kiss or prayer. He merely spun it a few times before tucking it back into his belt.
Suddenly, the ground began to tremble slightly, the tremors rapidly intensifying.
Hammer froze for a moment, then heard the thunderous clatter of hooves striking the ground from the western side of Crescent Bay, as if a thousand horses were trampling the riverbank's gravel.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
The goblin sentries rang the copper alarm bells.
Simultaneously, the night sky was torn apart by the screeching of bipedal flying dragons.
These death angels had silently approached under the cover of darkness, swooping down to shower the watchtowers with acidic liquid.
A pungent white mist instantly blanketed the night sky.
The centaurs charged through the fog, their manes flying, their steel lances glinting lethally under the moonlight as they surged toward Crescent Bay.
Several Magitech Ballistae swiveled to face the threat.
These precise killing machines could rapidly fire volleys of alchemically enhanced steel arrows, having claimed the lives of countless raiders along the riverbank. But tonight, after only one salvo, they were dismantled by the approaching wyverns.
Strike first, strike hard.
The Gold Tooth Tribe's defenses at Crescent Bay were formidable, but they proved insufficient against this sudden assault. Their lines crumbled swiftly.
(End of the Chapter)
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